Fortuna Nulla Fides Frontis
by Jemima947
Summary: No fortune to those who trust apperances.... Phantom Manor. A collaberation with Aquarian Wolf
1. Chapter 1

iNo fortune to those who trust appearances…/i

For the first time in over a century, light filled the manor, beautiful sunlight that broke through the storm clouds. The lightning and thunder stopped. Around the Victorian mansion, the earth began to heal. Thunder Mesa, ripped asunder by that fatal earthquake so long ago, shifted and pressed together with a roar. Down below in the catacombs, the skeletons continued dancing as they had for decades. Up above, so did the long-dead citizens of the ghost town. Cowboys shook hands with bandits, saloon girls can-caned, and the mayor threw his hat—and head—up into the air with a whoop.

Melanie Ravenswood had seen all of this from the attic balcony. She wasted little time taking in the celebrating, though. Running back into the attic, and then downstairs, she descended further into her home. With the long hallways no longer dark, she felt less depressed and frightened. Rattling from doorknobs, moans, and pounding fists had been replaced with noise makers, laughter, and chatter. In the grand ballroom, happiness was different from in the past. There was actual recognition in the ghosts' eyes now, a new knowledge that they knew where they were and when it was. The dancing was no longer robotic or mirthless, but energetic. Smiles took over frowns. Someone threw out the moldy wedding cake.

Passing Madame Leota's room, Melanie stopped. Perhaps she should go in and ask what exactly had happened, but then continued running. Explanations could wait.

Arms and legs pumping, her white skirts flapping around her, she kept running. Gliding just wasn't enough. She had to feel that effort to move again. Because for the first time in decades, she could finally _feel _again. Tears blurred her vision and people kept trying to ask her what was going on, but she ignored them.

Racing into the foyer, she kept going, her frantic form caught in the great oval mirror in the corner. A maid was pulling aside the red, velvet curtains to let in the sunshine. Approaching an oak wall, Melanie didn't yield but went right through. Emerging into the octagonal secret chamber, she finally came to a halt. Panting (purely from emotion), she looked up and around, searching past the flecked and peeling wall paper and the four long portraits of her.

Finally, her eyes rested on a swinging figure hovering high above by the rafters. It was a corpse, skin rotted away and clothes tattered. Just that body and nothing else.

"No."

Melanie dropped to her knees, put her face in her palms, and sobbed. "It's not fair!" In her rage, she pounded on the floor with her pale fists. "Why not him, too? James! My James!" She hung her head and let her tears hit the threadbare carpet, her shoulders shaking with sobs.

"Wowie."

Her eyes shot open and she froze.

"Missy, you seem awful sad about something. You know, old Jimmy will do whatever he can to help a lady in distress."

"James?" She wiped her nose on her lace sleeve and looked up to see him. His stubbly, five o' clock shadowed face, lopsided grin, and shining hazel eyes beamed down at her. He held his hat in his hands, but dropped it to pick her up and pull her into a tight hug.

"Jimmy! Jimmy, my Jimmy!" Quick as she could, she kissed all over his cheeks and lips. "God, I thought I'd never see you again!"

He gently rocked from side to side, just enjoying their embrace and touching her again. "Oh, I never gave up hope, Mellie," he whispered into her ear. "Not as long as I loved you. And baby, I never stopped loving you!"

Giddy with joy, he lifted her up into the sunshine that filtered in through the roof's cracks and spun around. Laughing and kissing, they ran hand in hand out of the gallery and onto the front porch of Ravenswood Manor.

James put an arm around her waist and gave her a squeeze. "I was trapped so long I forgot what the sky looks like."

"Isn't it beautiful?" Melanie laid her head on his shoulder.

"Not as beautiful as you!" He kissed her.

"You're a cornball, James Griffin." She kissed him again. "And I love you."

He grinned. "I love you, too, Mellie!"

Inside the gallery, the Phantom had watched from his perch in the rafters, hidden in the little shadow left. In a voice creaking with age and exhaustion, he murmured, "And now everything falls apart again."

Melanie and James stayed on the porch for a long time, watching the townspeople celebrate and start rebuilding themselves. The streets below were filled with transparent figures, all milling around, trying to find others they knew. The couple watched with interest as a few heads turned their way and smiles lit up faces as the owners saw the two standing together on the porch.

Melanie sighed contentedly, nuzzling James' shoulder, where she was still laying her head.

"Can you believe it?" she asked, looking up into her fiancé's hazel eyes.

James smiled and tightened his grip on her waist. "No, Mellie, I really can't. But, here we are." He gazed at the sky for a moment, looking thoughtful. "How _did_ this happen?" he asked. "I mean, just a few hours ago we were…" he trailed off.

"Hmm…" Melanie thought for a moment and suddenly smiled. "I know who could tell us." She grabbed James' hand and started running into the manor. He laughed a little as she led him into the foyer.

"Where are you taking me?" he said, grinning at her.

"Leota, of course!" Melanie said, pulling on her fiancé's arm. "She's bound to know what happened!"

James' face suddenly fell and a flash of fear crossed his eyes. He stopped with Melanie still trying to pull him in the direction of the séance parlor.

"Wait, Mellie." He said, pulling her towards him.

Melanie looked at him with confusion. "What's wrong, Jimmy? Don't you want to know how this happened?"

"Well…yeah, but…didn't she work for…?" James faltered, looking a little fearful.

Melanie looked at him, understanding his fear. "James, Leota was and still is someone I trust. She'd never try and hurt you or me. Please, trust me on this." She looked at him earnestly and he smiled.

"Okay, Mellie. Let's go." He said, still a little reluctant.

The couple made their way though the halls, which glimmered in the light of the candles on the walls and the sunlight streaming in from the windows. They passed the hall of portraits, which no longer changed to their horrific forms, but remained, in their original states. Coming to the Grand Staircase, which was no longer dusty and gloomy, but bathed in sunlight, Melanie paused to look at the world outside the huge picture window. She paused for only a moment though, before starting down the long maze of hallways that lead to Leota's room. When Melanie had been alive, her father had hired Leota to help find new veins of gold, when his original once had begun to run dry. Leota had warned Melanie about her wedding, but she had been too wrapped up in the wedding plans and the excitement of it all to pay much attention. Melanie couldn't count how many times she had regretted not listening to the physic's words. But, things would be better now, she was sure of it. As she and James began walking, something suddenly darted into the shadows. Melanie glimpsed it out of the corner of her eye and let out a cry, grabbed James' arm. He instinctively whirled, but whatever it was had gone. James put an arm around Melanie's shoulders and bought her close, a protective gleam in his eyes. Melanie quivered fearfully in his grip, but James managed to comfort her. Finally, they approached the door to the séance parlor. Melanie stepped forward and knocked on it.

"Enter." A female voice purred from beyond the door.

Melanie opened the door with little difficulty and entered the room, James following behind her. The back of a large chair was facing them and they came forward cautiously. Melanie finally peered around the chair to see the gypsy Leota, but she wasn't there.

"Madame Leota?" Melanie called out into the darkness. "Leota?"

"On the table." The familiar female voice said dryly.

Melanie and James looked at the table to see the Madame's crystal ball glowing there. It was filled with a cloudy green smoke, like a miniature thundercloud was trapped inside. Suddenly, the smoke cleared to reveal Leota's head bobbing slowly up and down inside the ball. Melanie jumped backwards in surprise, tripping over her skirts and falling backwards. James glided forward and caught her before she hit the ground. She grinned sheepishly up at him as he helped her get to her feet. She walked towards the table again, this time with a confused expression on her face.

"Leota? What happened to you?" she asked, sitting in the chair so that she could talk with the fortune teller.

"When your father forced me to curse this house, I ended up cursing myself as well." Leota explained, bitterly. "This curse is different from the curse placed on yourself and Mr. Griffin, it's irreversible."

Melanie looked at Leota with sympathy. "I'm sorry this happened to you, Leota. You're sure there's no way to reverse it?"

"Yes, Ms. Ravenswood, there's no way. But, enough about me, you two are probably wondering what happened here a few hours ago."James and Melanie drew closer as Leota began to explain…

The Phantom waited in the remaining shadows. Every time the light slunk closer, he inched further back until he was pressed tight against the wall. He could have slipped inside the wood and plaster, hidden among the pipes and termites. It would have been dark and damp in there, perfect for a disgusting creature like him. Instead, he cowered behind a red, velvet curtain, listening in on the conversation.

Soon, though, he ignored the words, instead focusing on James and Melanie. His bony fingers gripped the fabric tightly, almost ripping it. They were holding hands and smiling at one another. It made him want to scream, leap out, and snap the young man's neck all over again.

_How dare you! _The Phantom shuddered. _Taking my precious little girl away from me again. Maggot! Filthy, corpse-munching worm! And you… _He tilted his skull ever so slightly in Melanie's direction. _Disobeying harlot! I gave you everything. You were my princess. And you spit it all back into my face. Ungrateful. Ungrateful wench!_

He shook, his bones rattling like some foreboding maraca. _All of you betrayed me. I gave you shelter, love, jobs, my confidence. It wasn't enough for you, was it? No, no, you had to slowly kill me._

The gypsy then turned her green head in his direction. "Monsieur Ravenswood, do come out of hiding." There was no malice in the beckon. "We're all welcomed into the light now."

Melanie and James both followed her gaze to the corner. A bit of black cape could be seen sticking out from behind the curtains and drapes. His shoes peeked out from under the drapes.

James swallowed hard and put an arm around Melanie. "What if we don't want him out here?"

Leota smiled. "What we want is not always what's best."

Melanie set her lips in a firm line and took a step towards the Phantom. "Daddy," her voice quivered ever so slightly, "I'm not afraid of you anymore."

The curtain twitched aside and half a skull leaned out. "Afraid?"

"Yes." She clenched and unclenched her hands. "I was always afraid of you. I was afraid of your yelling, and your temper, and—and of your stupid cane, and your office, and that look you got when you were upset." Voice cracking from the tightening of her throat and tears slipping down her cheeks, she walked up to him. "I was afraid of ever accidentally disobeying. I was afraid of leaving Mother home alone with you when you drank. "

Shrinking back, the Phantom lifted up the curtain to cover his skull. "I—I didn't—"

"But no more!" She waved an arm. "You're even less of a man now than when you were alive. Your heart rotted long ago, nice to see the rest of you matches it." She yanked the velvet away. "Coward!"

"Melanie," James inched forward and put a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe you shouldn't—"

"No!" She grabbed his hand, but held it. "I'm not putting up with this any longer. He will apologize to you, to me, to everyone right now." She spun back to her father, her ruby lips pressed in a tight frown, a finger waggling at his red silk vest. "Apologize." 

"Apologize?" Tiny yellow pinpoints of light flashed briefly in the Phantom's sockets, blazing like the death throes of embers. This was his _daughter _shouting at him, a girl parading around in a wedding dress. He puffed his chest out, an amazing feat considering he didn't have lungs anymore. He wished for brows so he could furrow them. Instead, he had to make do with pushing down his top hat so that the brim was low. "Apologize?" Without much force, he swatted her hand away. "Young lady, I have absolutely nothing to apologize for!" Standing up at his full height now, he moved out of the shadows. His cape whished behind him, the brilliant red of a pumping heart.

He jabbed a bone finger at her collar. "I fed you, clothed you, spoiled you, got you an education, and treated you like a princess. I kept you safe from the monsters of the world, like your mine cart jockey whelp." He gestured to James. "He would have taken you from safety, from security, from _me_ if I hadn't stopped him!" The lights in the dark pits that once contained gray eyes sparked. "He would have corrupted you. Tarnished you. No…" His permanent grin was more chilling paired with his hoarse rage.

With a growl, James shoved himself in between his fiancée and potential father-in-law. "It's not bad enough that you kill me, good sir, but now you have the gall to insinuate less than admirable characterizations of me and my beloved. Hare dare you besmirch the honor of my true love!" He took off his cowboy hat and smacked the Phantom in the face with it. "I challenge you to a high noon show down!"

He looked at his pocket watch.

"A slightly later than noon but not quite evening show down!"

The Phantom held up his cane, unscrewed the handle, and pulled out a sword. Blade at the young man's throat, he leaned in close. "Don't think for a second death saves you from me, pup. I've had a lot of time on my hands. Going insane became my hobby and thinking of ways to torture you became my career."

Leota and Melanie's voices blended into one cry. "Enough!"

Arms out, Melanie rushed forward and _shoved_ her father. "I never want to see you again! Not ever!" She grabbed James' hand and started backing out of the room with him. "You're the monster I should have been kept away from. I hate you! I hate you!"

After she was gone, Henry stared at the wall and wondered why he felt remorse.


	2. Chapter 2

In a fury, Melanie stormed through the halls with James desperately trying to keep up. She still had his hand in a vice grip, and was obviously not planning on letting go anytime soon.

"Where are we going?" James almost tripped over his feet.  
"I don't know," Melanie snarled through her teeth. "Just….outside. I need air."

Reaching the foyer, she shoved the massive door open and sunlight flooded the room. Noises from the town floated up through the grounds, filling the air with the sound of voices and laughter. The fresh air seemed to have an instant calming effect on Melanie. She relaxed her grip on her fiancé's hand, though still holding onto it. She tugged his arm gently, and the couple started to walk across the grounds towards the town. They arrived on the dusty streets only a few minutes later, looking around curiously at the townspeople, who were still in the process of celebrating. Music poured out of the nearby saloon, and the streets were filled with ghosts, all walking around or talking cheerfully to others. A few of them approached Melanie and James, murmuring their congratulations and then moving on.

Suddenly, a sugary, sweet voice rang out over the buzz of conversation. "Jiiiiimmy!"

A young woman was walking towards the pair, smiling at James in a coy manner. A large feather boa hung from her shoulders, and her brown hair was pilled on her head with a pink feather sticking out. She was dressed in a pink and gold dress with a low neckline, which was covered with gaudy fake jewels. Melanie narrowed her eyes, taking an instant dislike for the woman approaching them. Beside her, James stiffened, and Melanie felt him shaking slightly.

"Er...um…h-hello Miss Rita…" he stammered, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh, Jimmy, I've missed you terribly," Rita said dramatically as she leaned closer to James. Melanie grabbed his arm and bit back a territorial growl. The two women glared at each other, but Rita quickly looked back to James. "Who's this?" she asked, her voice becoming harsh.

"My…uh…my fiancé," James was still stuttering, nervous in Rita's presence. He backed up a step as she moved in closer, and Melanie's grip broke for a moment. That moment was all Rita needed. She snatched James' other arm and started to pull him towards her. "Come with me," She purred. "You don't need her."

Rita suddenly felt her head being yanked back painfully by her hair and let out a yelp. She was suddenly staring up into Melanie's face, which bore an expression that was half snarl, half psychotic grin. "I've been locked away from my man for a very, _very_ long time." She said, her eyes blazing with fury. "Some folks say that kind of isolation drives one mad. Is that true? I don't know. But just think of the fun we could have finding out!" A wild giggle escaped her, as Rita's expression turned to one of pure terror. Melanie let her go, and she broke into a run, tearing down the dusty street as though the devil himself was after her.

Melanie strode forward. "Shouldn't have let her go, but when I catch her again, I'll-"  
"Hold it!" James grabbed the back of her collar and pulled her into his arms. "Ease off, darlin'. Now, you know nobody is going to take me away from you ever again, right?" He nuzzled the tip of his nose against hers. She let out a gusty breath. "I know. I'm just so… I don't know. Possessive, I guess. I just don't want to lose you again." She put her forehead against his chest. "That was torture, being away from you for so long."

"It was for me, too." He kissed her brow. "I think we both need some refreshment. Let's head into the drug store and see if there's any sarsaparilla." He jerked his thumb towards the ramshackle little store across the street. She bumped her hip against his and they wrapped their arms around each other's waists. "Sounds like a great plan to me, Jimmy."

Before they could step into the shop, though, a scrawny figure zipped onto the porch, coming to a wobbling stop in front of the couple. With a tip of his green visor, the skeletal chap whipped two train tickets out of his vest pocket. "Hey, you two lovebirds look like you need a nice, relaxing vacation, am I right?"

"Well, we just wanted a fountain drink…" James started.

"Of course you do!" the corpse cut him off. "But why waste your hard earned money here in this dump when you could get an ice-cool island drink in the fabulous…" He put his hand behind his back and pulled out a creased and faded travel poster. "Bahamas! Huh, how's that look?"

James squinted his eyes and leaned close to the parchment. "Now, I ain't much of a readin' man, but I don't think that says 'Bahamas.' I think that says 'Third Circle of Hell.'" He tapped a picture of a demon. "And, I don't think people from the Bahamas have horns."

Zeke flicked his wrist and rolled the paper back up. "Okay, so it isn't the Bahamas. But neither is this ghost town, am I right? Look, they're both toasty and full of interesting people. I've got two tickets here, and my buddy Virgil is a great travel agent who'll cut ya a deal!"

"No thanks, Zeke." Melanie patted his bald head, grimacing when a bit of yellowed skin stuck to her palm. She tried to shake it off. After whipping her hand back and forth several seconds she wiped it on her dress. "But, um, good luck!"

"Thanks Melanie." Undaunted, he was off again, trying to sell tickets to Mexico to a couple of frantic bank robbers with a stubborn mule.

"We sure do live in a bizarre little town, Mellie." Putting his hand on her back, James led her into the shop.

Inside, the jars of ointments, pills, and creams on the shelves connected to one another via a cobweb trail. A display of liquors was safely stowed behind locked glass doors. Against one wall was an assortment of jars filled with faded, rock hard candies. There was a rack next to the cashier's counter marked DISCOUNT containing denture cream and canned prunes. Behind the counter a man stood mixing up concoctions in test tubes.

"Ah." He looked up as a dinging bell announced their arrival. His spectacles were scratched and smudged from years of neglect. "What can I do for you lovely young people this fine evening?"

"Evenin', Doc!" James sat on a spinning bar stool at the counter. Squeaking from side to side, he looked over the array of half-filled soda bottles shelved along the back wall. Most were being used by spiders for spelunking. "I'd like a sarsaparilla and Mellie wants a…" He paused and spun around. "What do you want, honey?"

She put back some beeswax lip gloss and sat next to James. "Root beer float, please."  
"Coming right up. Of course, the vanilla ice cream might be a bit out of date." He shuffled away from the counter and disappeared into a back room.

"Doc Banner's the best darn drink mixer in the county," James said.

"Why do you call him Doc?'"

"'Cause he's a doctor. He's the town's physician when he's not working here."

Had she ever visited the doctor as a child? Or was she always tended to by her nurse at home? Did she ever leave home, except to run messages to her father at the mine? She stared at the counter top, the thoughts making her uncomfortable. "This town's smaller than I remember."

"Alright you two love birds." Doc Banner swept into the room, two full and not very clean mugs in his hands. "Here are your drinks." After putting them down, he plopped straws down through the frothing tops. "Enjoy!"

Melanie swiveled the straw, watching as foam quickly took over the brief trail of brown soda left in the tube's wake. Still staring down into the mug, she said, "Do you think people can truly change, Dr. Banner, or do they just go right back to how they were?"

"Hmm?" He looked up from drying a glass using a filthy dishrag.

James had one eye shut while the other squinted into his pop. "There's a maggot on the bottom…"

"In my experience, young lady," Banner spit in the glass and scrubbed it, "everyone has another side to them, a portion of personality that just needs a little encouragement to come out. Or trauma can help. A good whack on the head can do wonders."

"Um, nothing that extreme, sir."

"Ah, a quick and easy fix you want, is it?" His eyes darted from side to side and he lowered his voice to an anxious whisper. "I have just the thing! Been working on it for years." He ducked down and then popped right back up again. In his hands he held a test tube rack. "With this concoction, I can become super human!" He mixed the contents of two vials until it glowed bright green and fizzed. Then he chugged it back.

"Hit the deck!" James grabbed Melanie and pulled her to the floor. Ignoring the snorts and snarls behind them, they ran for the exit. "Good gracious, Mellie, your daddy might not be the weirdest one in the bunch after all."

As they ran out into the street, they bumped into a bearded man in a purple suit. He tipped his hat and his head came off with it. "Be sure to re-elect me, Mayor Higgenbluff, when you're at the polls!" He pushed pamphlets into their hands. "Tough on crime and low on taxes."

"Which is why there's a man robbing a bank down the road…"

"Beg pardon, missy?"

"Nevermind." She took James' hand. "Let's go someplace a little less…hectic."

"Maybe we should head back." James jerked his head towards the manor. "I think we've had enough craziness for a while."

"But-"Melanie began to protest, but stopped. They couldn't stay down in the town forever, and it was cowardly to hide down here. She sighed and reluctantly followed her fiancée up to their home.

Once inside, the two found the manor bustling with activity. Servants were moving in every given direction, yet somehow not bumping into each other. They were making an effort to clean the manor from top to bottom, starting with the foyer. Glancing upwards, Melanie noticed that the chandelier had been cleared of all cobwebs and the dim candles had been relit, so that they cast a warm glow throughout the room. A young maid ran up to Melanie, looking slightly flustered.

"Miss Ravenswood? Could I get your opinion on something?" she asked, timidly.

"Of course, Kira. You don't mind, do you Jimmy? I'll be back in a minute."

James smiled. " 'Course not." He kissed her briefly before allowing Kira to pull Melanie away towards the ballroom.

By now the sun had set and gray-tinted clouds ambled over the moon. The Phantom kept pace with the cumulonimbus, paying little attention to the few townsfolk on Boot Hill Cemetery who were now heading for shelter. One man had actually left a bouquet of flowers for himself. Henry scoffed and flicked up his high collar. It felt good to sneer at the pathetic townsfolk, especially when so many uncomfortable thoughts were going through his mind. He did not like being confused. It made him angry. Although, on reflection, being angry was fun, but not when it was from confusion, because when he was confused he didn't know who to be angry at. Walking outside had brought uncomfortable thoughts and feelings.

He stopped and gazed out at the peaks of Thunder Mesa. A train whistle sounded. It was the kind that used to haul gold from his mines. Grubby, exhausted, and often missing limbs, his employees had ridden those trains day and night. Their skin, sweat, and blood had gone into the work, he'd seen to that. There was always one, though, one cheerful wretch who'd come out whole and managed to tear his fragile daughter away from him….

A snapping noise made him look down. He'd balled his fist so tightly that he broke the tip of a finger bone against his palm.

"Ow." He plucked up the fragment. "My beloved finger!" He clutched it to his purple silk vest.

The boy! Yes, he could be mad at… whatever his name was. The boy. That always fixed things.

"Curse you, _boy_," he yelled to the dark heavens. The pines swayed in the wind and a duet of thunder and lightning cued his echo. "You shall pay for what you've done to my delicate digit!" He added a fist shake for good measure. "What a terrible day this has been." He was used to speaking out loud. For over a century, he was the only person he had to talk to. It'd kept him from going…well…a smidgen more insane, at least.

Wait… He had one friend in this God-forsaken place, an old pal he'd almost forgotten about. Reaching into his cloak he pulled out a tiny bronze bell and rang it. The tinny "gling-gling" couldn't possibly have been heard over the shrieking rumbles of thunder by the ears of anything living.

Paws padded up above and Henry spotted a gray form glaring down at him from the roof of a crypt. Its red eyes were narrowed and its furless muzzle was curled back in a permanent snarl. Despite the night, Henry could make out the bone-only back legs, sharp haunches, and pale ribs sticking out through the creature's sides.

"Sparky!" He held his arms out and the beast leapt into them. "I missed you, boy." Half a gray tongue that was currently being chewed on by maggots licked Henry's cheek. Sparky's tail wagged and broke off.

"Oh, don't worry, boy. Daddy'll fix that for you. Now give me kisses! Who's a good boy? You is! Yes you is!" He scratched the dog's back; it was lumpy from the protruding spine. Even though parts of him were nothing but bone, the gray fur he had left were tangled patches, or some pieces were missing all together, Henry saw only the obedient terrier he'd trained since puppyhood.

When Sparky whined, Henry put him down. "What's wrong, Sparky?" The dead dog barked and from out behind the crypt came a ghostly coyote and a litter of the ugliest puppies Henry had ever seen. There were five of them, walking in almost single file behind their nervous mother. Some had full tails, others bones, and one completely lacked the appendage. Their fur was a mangy mix of gray and brown, shaggy on some and thin on others, although not one had a coat without bald patches. Two had their father's red eyes while three had the gold irises of their mother, and one of those three was missing an eye. Maggots picked at the skin on their exposed bones and on the organs inside their bellies.

"Oh, Sparky, they're just…"

One of the pups coughed up a worm wrapped around a gob of something slimy and black.

"Uh, they're…_adorable_." Henry picked up one of the puppies and it licked his face a few times before its tongue fell out. The other pups gathered around his feet, pawing at his ankles and chewing on his laces. He couldn't stop himself from laughing and petting all of the hideous hounds. Within minutes, he was laying on his back in the dirt, covered in barking and licking puppies. Between giggles, he managed to shriek, "Stop! Stop! It tickles!"

James folded his arms on the gazebo rail. Sitting with his chin resting on his wrist, he watched Henry play with the dogs. _Boy howdy, I never thought I'd see the day old hateful Henry be nice to someone. Sure that someone is a dog, but it's a start. Maybe that crazy coot does have a soft side, and if he does, then perhaps I can appeal to it. _

"Evenin' Mr. Ravenswood." With a light push, James vaulted himself over the rail. "How're you this fine night? I see you got yourself some critters. I like big dogs, myself." He got down on his knee and scratched behind the coyote's ears. "I had a blood hound when I was a youngin' named Blitz."

Henry stood up, towering above James. His sockets fixed on the young man; all he gave was a noncommittal grunt

James looked back up at Henry. "Blitz had asthma."

"I see…"

They watched one another for a moment, James blinking occasionally and Henry making quiet coughing noises into his fist. The coyote howled. Desperate to wade forward through the rough waters of awkward conversation, James got up and said, "I'm thinking of proposing to your daughter."

If he had any muscles, Henry would have gotten whiplash from turning his head so quickly. "Again?" The yellow orbs in his sockets were more like sparks than eyes. "I thought you learned your lesson last time you snot-nosed…snot-nosed…" the Phantom sputtered

Ever helpful, James piped up, "Wretch? Whelp? Wretch-whelp?"

"Yes, thank you… Snot-nosed wretch-whelp!"

"Mr. Ravenswood," James took off his hat and held it over his chest. "I think we got off on the wrong foot. I feel like I'm trying to chit-chat with a diamondback with a toothache. Look, you're dead, Mel's dead, I'm dead. What's the point of carryin' on any grudges? We're obviously gonna be here for a long time, right? Why don't we learn to get along? I'm willin' to forgive you, Mr. Ravenswood, if you're willin' to accept me." He held out his hand and grinned. "I can assure you that I'll be the most carin', most lovin,' and most protective man Melanie could ever have."

Henry ground his back teeth together and tried to raise his right arm. Grumbling under his breath, he pulled his right hand up with his left and pressed it against James' palm. After a limp shake, he mumbled, "I suppose you're right. And being that I'm unable to kill you again, I suppose some sort of truce is in order. But you will be on trial, young man. I will be watching you."

James put his hat back on and gave the Phantom a friendly, if a smidgen too hard, pat on the back. Not hearing Henry's coughs, James pulled him into a bear hug. "I always dreamed we'd be best pals, like me and my pappy had been!"

"You have… great ambitions." Henry brushed any invisible James residue off of his coat.  
"I like to aim high." James threw a bone-someone's thumb, he was pretty sure-and watched the puppies race after it. "Does your dog-"  
"Sparky." Henry rubbed from the top of the dog's skull to midway down his lumpy spin. "His name is Sparky."  
"Does Sparky do any tricks?"  
"Oh," Henry waved a hand. "Just a couple of word triggered-commands. You know, it's been so long I can't even recall what they are." There was a flash of gold in his sockets and his grimace seemed happier somehow. "I must say James, you're not like any of the other…" He paused and glanced at Sparky. "…_suitors_ who came to call on Melanie."

Sparky's ears perked up and he leapt at James, foam flying from his jaws.

After watching James scream and flail for a while, Henry pulled the dog away. "I am so sorry, James!" he gushed. "I just don't know what got into him. Bad boy! Bad!" He scratched behind Sparky's ears.

James pushed himself up. "No, it's okay," he panted. "I bet he just thought he was protectin' his master. Weren't ya?"

Sparky wagged his tail, tongue lolling out from the side of his decayed mouth.

Henry crossed an ankle over the other and leaned forward on his cane. "He's a good boy, just rambunctious. He never did care for Melanie's gentlemen callers." He reached into a vest pocket and pulled out a dusty, dry bone shaped dog biscuit. "All it takes is a little motivation and you can teach them anything. Even to, say, attack on command." He threw the biscuit to Sparky. "By the by, if this wedding were to take place, I hope you won't be wearing that silly hat and those boots."

"Oh no," James shook his head. "I want to look my most handsome for Mel. I think I'd have a suit or tux."

Again, Sparky's ears twitched and he lowered his head to growl.

"What?" James finally understood. "No, no!" He waved his hands. "I said 'suit or' not 'suitor!' Oh cow pies!"

Before Sparky's ectoplasmic drool could hit the ground, James was already running. "Melanie!"

Henry took out another biscuit and broke it up into little pieces. He watched the puppies fight over them as he shook his head. "Nice boy, just not very bright."


End file.
